Hearing Samara say that 'Galatec was not their friend' let it sink in for Clementine that this wasn't a joke. Then this alien named John showed them a video of Galatec's legacy. Clementine admitted that Galatec had its fair share of issues, but Galatec was so big, some things were bound to slip through the cracks. Besides, wasn't the best way to change a broken system to fix it from the inside? And it wasn't like Clementine was completely unaware of some of the 'less ethical' aspects of the company or the 'harsher' working conditions of some of the employees; her short time at the mines had shown her more than enough, it didn't seem like Galatec had much intention to hide it from her. But it was just one of those things people were supposed to take as an unfortunate necessity. That's right, if it weren't for the rebels disrupting operations, output would be at maximum, profit margins would be met, and the surplus would be trickled down, improving everyone's standard of living. Yes, if this alien was true to his word, he'd let her walk away from here; she could report what she had seen, no doubt he worked with the rebels who made life difficult for everyone. She turned to look at Jonah for reassurance, and he gave it to her by placing his hand on her shoulder, calming her considerably. She was about to ask to be allowed to leave when Jonah did something she didn't expect: he laughed. Then he mentioned that their lives as employees was officially over.

"Mr. Fallen! Y-you can't mean that!" Clementine gasped as she turned around, grabbing his collar. "I'm just an office worker, I'm not part of this. They'll take me back...they'll forgive me...I've worked too hard to lose everything like this..." She said this more in an attempt to convince herself against what she already knew to be true. Clementine dropped to her knees and recalled all the news stories she had seen, reminding her of some of the more draconian measures that were taken against rebels and suspected rebel sympathizers, measures that she felt were justified at the time but thought otherwise now that she was potentially on the receiving end. Of course, none of it fell under the legal definition of 'torture', but then again, the legal team that defined 'torture' was part of Galatec's own legal department.

"My life is over. They'll kill me, or worse..." Clementine muttered to herself. She looked at Jonah, then at Samara and John, and then over to Oliver and Tommy. Then, uncharacteristically, Clementine asked something she never thought she'd dare to ask, "I-is there any hope of us winning?"

Given that Oliver was the youngest of the chosen, Samara couldn’t fault him for being unable to put this situation together on his own. They were simple questions she was more than capable of answering, but the fact that the questions were asked in such a mixed order did not do favors for her. This role—assisting John—had its upsides, but playing 20 questions wasn’t one of them. Her jaw tensed and she forced a smile, “Oliver, you don’t know if you can trust us, that’s the idea,” she said. Samara returned her ID card to her back pocket. It seems that it had gone ignored, or worse, no one was willing to believe that this wasn’t a plot to expose them. “You’re taking a risk and so are we—I just did.”

Maybe it was hard to miss somehow, but there was no secret-keeping on their side of things. John was explaining everything relevant to the situation at hand and that included his old role within Galatec, leaving room for questions. Thankfully sparing her from a headache, John had handled the other question that he could comfortably answer, and left those that were not productive behind. He brought up footage, footage that she helped compile with glee, of Power Rangers from the past that stood together against overwhelming odds. From Mighty Morphin’ and onward, the clips compiled just before the second Dinosaur-related team was crafted from a past mentor and a legendary ranger. Sadly, no one seemed to appreciate the effort, and they didn’t appear to find any inspiration or courage from the videos linked to them. Samara didn’t blame them after John put up that horrible autopsy video, one she had seen too many times already, but at least the other footage was pretty cool.

Jonah had spoken next and put things together pretty quickly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as he went on, and it took every ounce of her strength not to cut him off for even considering that John was a liar. She had worked with this man for too long to doubt his interest in ending Galatec. There may have been some intelligence behind that shoddy effort to assert some form of dominance over them, but Samara was not willing to humor the attitude. All that mattered was that he would fight against Galatec. His reasons were his own.

As expected, he ended up agreeing to do this just as Tommy had.

With that rant over, Clementine’s panic was still active. She grabbed Jonah by his collar and seemed far too frantic to find self-control all on her own. After sinking to her knees, Clementine had begun to mutter to herself about the fate she was going to find if she returned. Jonah wasn’t the shining example of what it would mean to be a Power Ranger, but he was right about one thing: There would be questioning, very intense questioning, about where they vanished to and what they saw. Galatec may choose to believe them, and they may get to return to their lives, but that was the best case scenario. It didn’t sound like the greatest outcome they could hope for, but Clementine was already losing herself in fear of the consequences should she return.

Samara sighed and held up a hand to John that told him to let her handle Clementine. The assistant approached Clementine and knelt down so that they were at the same eye level. There was a pity in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “Clementine, down here in the dirt is where you already are. You just don’t see it yet,” Samara said. “You don’t mine that ore like everyone else but believe me when I say that you’re just a warm body that has enough sense to do what they tell you to. At the end of the day, that is all you are to them, and that is all you’ll ever be.”

Clementine was one of the two she didn’t want to involve in this. She was crumbling under pressure before she was even put in a position that placed her in danger. If this was going to be a constant for her—dropping onto her knees and seeking forgiveness from her Galatec overlords—then Samara may preemptively decide to return her and let her talk her way out of what happened. It wasn’t out of spite; as said earlier, if they don’t wish to fight not only for themselves but for others too, they can be returned elsewhere and try to get back to their mediocre, submissive lives.

“I’ve shown you my identification. John has agreed to mentor all of you and get you where you need to be to fight these people. Both of us have slaved to give humanity a fighting chance against Galatec, and we took a risk with the four of you. So yeah,” Samara glanced at Jonah for a moment, then faced Clementine again. “Sorry we didn’t get your consent. You didn’t get to ask mommy and daddy for permission to help save the world. But we are desperate, our options are few, and at the end of the day John put his faith in you, even when I was in doubt. He sees what you are capable of, and he chose you—no one else came before you—he chose YOU—” Samara lightly poked Clementine's forehead, “—to give us our world, and our freedom back.”

Samara returned to her feet, then extended a hand for Clementine to take if she chose to. “We’re going to help you face them every step of the way, but I refuse to help you walk when you’re happy crawling. Make a choice Clem,” Samara glanced at Oliver,”and that goes for you, too. Say the word and I get you out of this. Don’t trust us. Go back to scraping out a living at their heels.”

Unlike John, Samara was not willing to let this self-pity continue before it became a serious problem. Clementine was killing any morale John and herself hoped to build by sinking so pitifully. This couldn’t be the path for everyone, but if Clementine was wavering at this stage she would only let others down who would be counting on her.

“Or, join us, and create the hope you’re looking for.”

Samara would only hold her hand out for several seconds longer. Regardless if Clementine had considered anything she had said, or chose to stay in the dirt and moan about how life was so hard for her, the assistant would return to her computer and prep the RDS for a return trip should they want to walk away. Otherwise, she would return to combing the mines for Michael with the radar, who she hoped would add some much-needed strength to this shaky, incomplete team. Until addressed personally, there was nothing more she had to say. John could take it from there.

"Oh... you really have studied up on us if you know I don't eat galatec food." Remarked Tommy, who did not need to be told twice to eat. In fact, he was so hungry that he ate the entire snack bar in record time, and drank half of the water bottle. Almost dying tends to make one hungry... as does undernourishment. After having scarfed down the food, he finally registered that Oliver had spoken to him as well. He was quickly distracted as well though, so that was fortunate. "Nonsense buddy, we both know you'd have likely died there... and I don't like seeing friends die!" He said, giving Oliver a big smile.

Watching videos of aliens getting dissected alive was a bit of a downer. However, it was soon contrasted by the glory of various power ranger teams! Those warriors sure seemed powerful and colorful. Tommy liked colorful, nothing more boring than monochromatic surroundings. Perhaps he would be able to decorate this place once they had all officially joined up...

However, once Jonah spoke, he quickly lost some of his demeanor. There was one thing that Tommy could not simply dismiss with a jolly attitude. "Well... you're right about one thing stoic analytical guy, we can't go back. Personally I don't particularly care, I can be happy wherever I am! But that leaves the question, what about our loved ones? We all know Galatec will come looking for them eventually."

Tommy fumbled around with a little metal dinosaur he had in his belt. Perhaps with a bit of the oranium he could create a mechanism that would make the eyes glow... and perhaps thinking of this would distract him from the possibility that his family might very well die...

Quicker than most, Michael got the basics of his arm down. He held it in his hand and made sure, at least twice, that the safety was off. He touched his scar out of several emotions, none more than fear. However, beyond that menacing trepidation was a powerful need for vengeance. It felt both overwhelming and necessary.

Among the other soldiers, if he could call them that, Michael positioned himself near the only person he had spoken to. He had twelve shots to play with and another to replace the first should he run out. On the fringes of his mind, he realized he was still carrying his pickaxe. Should I run out of ammunition, I always have this to rely on.

He held tight to it as the rusted elevator hummed upward, creaking and scraping with age. Michael couldn't put his finger on why he had blindingly charged into the fray with this band of strangers. All he could imagine, all he could think it might be; was his torturous guilt over Courtney's death.

I couldn't show you in life, Courtney... The cancer that Galatec is. So maybe in death, if you're watching and not rotting in the ground... maybe you can see through my eyes, the evil thats in theirs.

Outwardly he heaved. Outwardly his muscles tensed and his palms became moist with sweat. On the inside, he felt how he looked on the out. Full of adrenaline.

Jackson listened closely as the girls introduced themselves, recalling how great Galatec was to get them such a good job where they could stick together. Boy, Galatec was just great!

”Nice to meet you! I’m Jackson, and I’ll be your driller for this evening,” he chuckled, gesturing to the drill behind him. He took another bite of his sandwich, rubbing his hands on his pants as the musty air almost circled around him, drawn away from the dim lights and clinging to his clothes, though the man was completely oblivious to it. Such was the naivety of a brainwashed worker like him, looking at the aliens around him and seeing them as companions, rather than what would come to be his worst enemy.

Clementine looked up into Samara's eyes and saw her determination. Looking around, Clementine noticed for the first time that Tommy and Oliver seemed to be slightly injured, perhaps signs of having been in a scuffle; probably with Githkin. Clementine knew that if she went back to Galatec, while torture was a high probability, there was a chance she could explain her way out of it, there was a chance she could survive. Maybe Jonah would be able to survive as well thanks to his position, despite having already pledged to help John and Samara. But what of Oliver and Tommy? Clearly they were miners, and from the little time she spent here, she could guess that they would be shown no mercy. They didn't have a choice to go back. If she went back simply for the sake of self-preservation, she was certain that she would doom every other individual in this room: Jonah, Samara, John, and the two miners. She felt she was the weakest link here, but that only increased the pressure to not break lest the whole chain falls apart. She couldn't live with that kind of guilt.

She looked up at Samara again and said, "I want to live," but before any sign of disappointment could appear on Samara's face, Clementine took Samara's hand, helped lift herself up, and continued, "But surviving under Galatec isn't living." Clementine looked around the room again, making eye contact with everyone present. Her throat was dry, and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. "For what it's worth, I'll help you."

So many questions ran through Oliver's head, but the primary one was why him? He wanted to believe this was all true, but he just couldn't fully believe. Not yet at least. With all the others accepting the request to join the team the last one was Ollie. He didn't want to disappoint them, but he didn't know if he was strong enough.

His thoughts kept drifting back to his parents, and he thought to himself, *What would they want me to do?* He knew that they had wanted him to live his own life. Not controlled by Galatec. He realized that the only way to do that was probably with these people. If he went back he would die. No other option. He just hoped he wouldn't mess things up. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but I guess it's the only thing to do. I'll help. Just tell me what to do, and I'll get it done."

---

A sneer formed on Ruth’s face, the contempt and anger that she was holding down was clearly evident to anyone in the room. She may have been partially pleased at the terror that one of these disgraces felt towards her but the resentment that she instilled in the second made her positively giddy. The stupid maggot had set a giant target on its back and she waited to find a reason to pounce on the opportunity. She did like her some slapping before ordering someone else to do her dirty work.

That is when she realised that she was perhaps being a little too emotional and that just wouldn’t do. A lot had happened and she had to keep her mind clear and capable. She took a calming breath and instead plastered her charming smile on her face once more. She walked around to stand behind the resentful employee with a click and a clack. Her well-manicured hands rested on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze of encouragement. She said no words, she simply smiled and held onto his shoulders. He may be resentful but she could appreciate his ability to read the room, perhaps he didn’t deserve to be utterly decimated. She had to look on the positives of the situation especially considering what she was currently dealing with.

It always pleased Ruth to feel the Githkin skittering around like insects, listening to her every order. She still held a deep, secret desire about the Githkin but it would have to wait. For now, ordering them around to carry out her desires and needs. Her eyebrow rose as she heard XJ-47 responding to her command. “Report to the Foreman’s office immediately. I need all of the information that you have.”

As the frightened little wisp of an assistant spoke out, Ruth felt the scowl breaking across her brow. Shplorn. Ruth reached out once again with her mental communication and began talking to the Githkin of higher import on the same floor, in the same area as accounting director Shplorn. Ruth’s mind found that of KT-25, another Elite Githkin that wore the standard Elite sash and was missing the two outermost fingers on their left hand.

“Elite Githkin, KT-25. I require you to take a small group of Githkin to Accounting Director Shplorn’s private rooms and bring her to me by any means necessary. Try to keep things calm if possible but I give permission to use force where necessary.”

“Yes Regional Manager, I will bring Accounting Director Shplorn to you directly.” The Elite Githkin motioned for four other Githkin to come with them as they made their way immediately towards Shplorn’s private quarters. KT-25 rose their left hand and knocked on Shplorn’s door. “Accounting Director Shplorn! Regional Manager Ruthalia requires your immediate assistance in the Foreman’s office. We request that you open the door now.” KT-25 stepped back from the door and awaited the answer from Shplorn.

Ruth was satisfied with KT-25’s instant reaction to her commands and made a mental note to herself to place a positive note in the Githkin’s file. The door opened and Ruth saw her General walking in with a rather beaten up Foreman Jo’ones. Her nose wrinkled and she realised just how emotional she had been but, all things considered, his assistants would never step out of line again. Just behind Drax, Elite Githkin XJ-47 and Githkin 27-B walked into the office.

She noted the scar on its face and made yet another note to herself to find out what this Githkin had done to receive such a scar. She would be dealing with a lot of files later it seemed. The concern whirring through her mind was insane. She could not let her bosses hear of this. This was the last thing that Ruth needed right now, this was not exactly what she was expecting but it was worse.

“XJ-47, please make your way towards KT-25 and assist them and their team with bringing Accounting Director Schplorn to me.” She then turned to the resentful assistant and gave him a gentle smile. “Send out an alert on the following humans; Jonah Fallen, Clementine Mayweather, Oliver Johnson and Tommy Reese. I also want all known family of these named individuals to be gathered and placed in a secure location with round the clock security and surveillance. Any known associates should also be kept under constant surveillance but I do not require them to be taken from their homes just yet. Make it happen.”

She turned and made her way towards Drax, looking at Foreman Jo’ones in his sorry state. “Thank you for returning the Foreman so promptly Drax. Ensure he is secured and unable to move but make him comfortable at least. I see you took your job seriously but you did a poor job in making sure his skin would be in fit condition to be used for my bag. I give you a B- for this order.” She patted his giant armoured forearm and crouched down to look at the face of Jo’ones. “Do try to be thankful for your second chance. I don’t give them out lightly.” She wasn’t entirely sure he could even hear her but it was more for show anyway.

Ruth stood up and smoothed out the creases from her dress. She looked around the room and pursed her lips in thought. Her right hand was tingling, it was apparently having bitch slap withdrawals.

---

Clementine had found the understanding that Samara was looking for, while Oliver on the other hand seemed as lax about things as Tommy was. She may have stepped away to locate the missing piece to this incomplete team, but her ears were still perked to listen to what was going on behind her.

John had continued with his gratitude being fully expressed, but when his video had been played she had intensified her search for Michael. Adjusting settings, placing focus on more populated areas within the mines, and even the classic solution of turning the ground-penetrating radar system off and on again. Nothing had worked. She had returned to the settings that were previously used to locate the other four, and watched the sonar pulsations travel through the facility as a whole. Quite suddenly, the radar had picked up new signals, dozens upon dozens of them, with one in the middle being surrounded by a hue like the last four. A red one.

“Michael,” Samara whispered quietly with a smile. As she was about to tell John the good news, the monitor had flashed twice with a warning of how many new signals were picked up, erasing her smile. It was always set to alert John and herself when they had picked up many new signals at once. This was more than just a dozen—there had to be at least several dozen of them, all approaching the central mining chamber. It wouldn’t have been as odd—but still odd—if the signals were moving at as normal a pace as all the others, but the speed at which they were racing towards that chamber wasn’t typically that of other miners. “Why are you running?”

Not just him. They were all running. The headquarters for the Strike Force may have been a safe distance away from the area in which Galatec’s slaves had dug for hours on end, but they could have felt some sort of seismic disturbance. It couldn’t have been a cave collapsing or some other danger.

Samara’s hands raced across several keys in quick succession, finding the camera nearest the chamber they were approaching. Choosing the most appropriate, she had laid her eyes on a brutal conflict between humans armed with significantly outdated weaponry striking against the Githkin that monitored the miners. The hue of red that surrounded Michael had allowed her to find him within that mess. He had enough sense to arm himself before joining this attack. It appeared that the rebels facing Galatec on their own had managed to find him first. Or maybe he had sought them out on his own and convinced them to let him fight. None of it mattered anymore.

“John!” Samara shouted, targeting Michael with the RDS on another window beside the camera displaying the ensuing conflict. He was reachable, but the power needed to grab the first four had made it impossible to bring him here through the same means as the others. She dare not try it as is and waste what precious power it still had left. “This just became a rescue mission. The rebels have attacked the facility and it isn’t looking good!”

The Githkin had the weaponry and the numbers to put down this attack if their forces weren’t bolstered. Michael, without the morpher they had fixed for him, was as good as captured or dead without immediate intervention. Samara was beginning to sweat once more, her heart pumping at the fear of losing Michael like this. Quickly measuring the remaining power they had left, she concluded that there was just enough remaining to send a small object, one that was morpher-sized.

“We don’t have enough power with our current processing unit in the RDS to bring Red to us. He’s either as good as dead or as good as captured—unless you four get there, that is!”

Samara did not have time to make eye contact just yet. Her fingers pounded at the console keys before her. One of the metal doors, one closest to the conflict in the central mining chamber, had opened nearby. It went without saying that without the power to transport them into the action quickly, they would need to race there on foot. While that was happening, she had worked to find the best entry points to transport Michael’s Photon Morpher when his safety was guaranteed, and only when it was. John had gone through a lot to secure them, and so she could not risk Michael receiving this device only to not understand its purpose or what it could do for him. Faith had to be placed in Clementine, Tommy, Oliver, and Jonah to not only protect Michael, but guide him in the process.

She returned to the camera focusing on the battle and opened tabs from cameras at different angles. The camera in the best position to track Michael was the largest. “Michael Sonnen is our chosen Red Ranger, and he is going to be your ally. Gorgeous hazel eyes, low cut, thick brows, distinct scar by his nose and right eye—the video feed is a good reference, too.” It struck her that describing Michael was not entirely necessary, as she had already put him as the largest window on her large monitor. She was thinking much too quickly to care.

At last she had left the console, turning around and darting for the remaining morpher that John had left alone. Taking Michael’s morpher in hand, she had moved to place it on the platform the others had arrived in and set it down with care, still in its protective casing. “I’ll look for a window to get this to him but one of you will need to get him up to speed,” she said. Samara sped towards her computer again, hands returning to the consoles. The morpher on the platform was now targeted by the RDS. “Tell him we’re sorry we didn’t get to him sooner. You four are his only chance right now. No pressure!”

Nearly breathless, Samara turned around and raced back over to John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “New processing unit—now. Tell me you have something up your sleeve—“the four had caught her eye, stopping her in her verbal tracks. They were still here. Why were they still here?

“It’s now or never, guys. Save Michael—save everyone you can!” She said urgently. “Flash forward!”

The aged doors moaned open and before him was a blazed but alien path. Where once it was an unknown mystery, now it was a nightmarish, bleak, door to his death. He could feel his fear cracking the walls that cornered it in his heart, the minute fissures that marked the end if he couldn't reign it in.

He steeled the quivering in his taunt arms.

Once the woman had begun her speech, like so many of the rebels around him, he looked for hope in her words. Unlike them, he found none. Some piece of him knew that Courtney's death would drive him to his own, that the guilt he felt was so strong that it'd pull him into Galatec's spectral grip. Michael lowered his head absently, a weak smile pulled his lips.

We're going to die one way or another. They think they can pull a small attack on one of Galatec's premiere mining sites and win... He chuckled shortly, a defeated smile hidden on his face. It reminds me of an ancient saying my dad use to quote; how does it go? Oh yea... "Like lambs to the slaughter."

Still, he had willingly become apart of the lambs' herd. He had no regrets about it when he truly thought about it, only a fiery ambition to rid himself of his unforgiving contentment. Once the cries of the rebels took root in the tunnels, Michael rushed forward with them. He eye'd the scattered remains of the equipment he had brought in with him, it roused a question in him that he had foolishly forgotten.

He came to a stop amongst the chaos, not too deep in but close enough to feel the heat of the flames they were attempting to douse with rebellious fevor. The sound of high-tech ammunition sizzled around him, loud bangs threatened to hurt his ears. He found cover in the form of a metal wagon. He grip the material over his chest and calmed his now thrumming heart.

"This is Galatec's true face!" he snarled with a shaky calm.

When he noticed a Githkin around the cover of his wagon, he raised the ancient arm given to him and pulled the trigger with an unusual amount of power in the action.

Let's see if you die like we do. With smiles on your faces.

---

---

What Foreman Jo’ones had decided to do to himself was both disgusting and impressive. Perhaps she had been a little too emotional this morning. Although the Foreman had been ungrateful perhaps this offering of his limbs for her handbag would be a way to start with a “clean” slate. The genuine answer had surprised her but she was glad. Her instincts had been correct. This one would be useful just perhaps not in the way that she had originally intended.

“Thank you for your offer, Foreman Jo’ones. I do hope that you’ve learned your lesson and that you will be more grateful towards Galatec for all that we have provided you.” She gave him a wink and smug smile, hoping that Drax’s beating would not have driven their unspoken interaction this morning out of his mind. She had no doubt he would remember her ordering his death but hopefully he would recall what he had been thinking that would have caused his fate.

She supervised the interaction between KT-25 and Shplorn but proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan. She could feel the other presence and she knew that she had to get Shplorn captured and in her presence but she couldn’t co-ordinate with the attacks and keep control on the Githkin gathering Shplorn. She let her connection break free from all the Githkin except for KT-25. “Resist her with all that you have, I give you permission to deny her requests. Fight as much as you can and bring her to me." She let the link go and then turned to Drax. “General Drax! Go directly to the private quarters of Accounting Director Shplorn and bring her to me at once. I will not accept failure as an option. Bring her to me now.” Her eyes narrowed and her fingers twitched as she drummed them on her thighs. Her patience was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

She turned to the two assistants and glared. “Get those orders sent out that I require now. I need those family members rounded up and that surveillance set up fifteen minutes ago. Move.” She turned away from the assistants and looked to Foreman Jo’ones. “Soldier, it is time to show your mettle. I require you to go to the vehicle station and ensure that these rebels gain no access to any of the vehicles. I will deal with the group heading to this office.” Ruth then looked to the Elite Githkin that had give its report to her moments before. “XJ-47, go with Foreman Jo’ones and ensure he is armed and armoured as best as we can in the time given. Do not let them take any of the vehicles. Take as many Githkin as you need that you find along the way.”

She was not about to let these maggots take advantage of the chaos. Her mind would remain focused and once she had dealt with the group heading towards her location, she would deal with Shplorn. That is if Drax didn’t fail in his objective. She turned one last time to Drax and smiled. “Feel free to break through walls and floors where necessary to get to Shplorn. Bring her here when you have her and defend this position only once you have found her. Now go! She dismissed her General and sent the rest of them off to do her bidding. Her hands twitched again as she made her way to stand between the two assistants. Her hands rose up and slapped them both upside the back of the head, not quite as ferociously as she would normally do but enough to keep her sated until the rebel group found their way here. She didn’t want to lose focus just because she was suffering from withdrawals; that would just be silly.

She casually turned away after hitting them and made her way to sit behind the desk of Foreman Jo’ones, the controller for the viewing screen in her hand as she waited patiently, with anger clear on her face. She crossed her legs and let one bounce comfortably up and down, her eyes remaining on the screen watching the rebel forces. Her mental link spread out to all the Githkin that could hear. “The Rebels are attacking. Gather your weapons and armour and fend them off. The Vehicle Station, Supervisor Quarters and Central Chamber are of the utmost importance. Failure is not an option. Retain a small guard on all humans that I have had you gathered, the rebels are the main priority for now unless I have directly told you otherwise. NOW MOVE IT.” This was going to be a long day.

---

Well fuck

Here he was with a thing on his wrist that could very well kill him instantly though he doubted that was the case. This was too elaborate for a murder. Besides, their apparent mentor had proven, to a degree, that he wasn't as dense as Jonah had immediately thought he was.

Jumping to conclusions was always something Jonah had attempted to avoid in the past, presumptions created errors and wasted amounts of time. He never thought his two captors weren't intelligent, he had simply questioned their way of going about things and their motivations. He had thought them naive and he had been wrong on that front, at least concerning their ideas for a backup plan.

But that wasn't what he needed to focus on, there was an issue that took precedence. Whatever he thought of the current group of individuals he was now stuck with, the fact remained that his new mission required a certain level of support and with the reasons for his position totally unknown to the blond, Michael could potentially prove invaluable. Jonah would have to save him, and probably Lillian, from the rebel's suicide attack.

He looked down at his wrist…

And it would take him saying a ridiculous phrase to get it started.

“Okay, me first…”

And then it started..

“Strike Force,” He raised his wrist, the purple stone shining brilliantly,
“Flash forward!”

The world fell away as his ranger form appeared in a gathering of pixels and light. He stepped forward and the image did the same, shattering upon collision to reveal Jonah suited in armor.

As his eyes began to shift through a myriad of colors, particles of light swarmed around his head, dispersing to reveal his helmet in a final flash of violet light.

“Whoa….” Jonah looked at his hands, flexing his fingers as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

He felt…...strong!

Really strong!

I mean, he had always felt capable but this felt different. He felt as though he were lighter despite having heavy armaments encasing his body.

He turned to the others, his sharp eyed stare shooting through his helmet.
“Well, you waiting for an invitation?”

New Objective Received: Acquire Accountant Director Shplorn.

"Yes ma'am." said Drax. The lights in his palms flickered to life at the promise of battle in the future. Without a moment wasted he spun on his heel and took his first step out the door, quickly building up speed. He ducked through the door, though not in his usual careful manner. The frame of the door "expanded" a small bit to accommodate for the rushing robot.

He wasted no time in making his way to the dormitories. The hallways just barely avoided the top of his head as he sprinted through the building. He took a stair-case five steps at a time as he bounded upwards. Time was of the essence now that battle was at hand. Soon, he was approaching Sphlorn's dormitory. He skidded to a stop, scraping and cracking the floor. He planted his feet, and his upper momentum carried him into what looks like a perfect face-plane trajectory, but he extended his knee forward, clawed his hand and slammed his knee and hand into the floor.

A burst of energy erupted from his palm, and a river of energy would swiftly course towards the Githkin and Shplorn.

---
The energy would lift the both of them in the air, were Drax would then scoop the both of them up without explanation and rush them back to Ruthalia.

Clementine was glad to see that there was some sort of backup plan in place, though she wondered at its efficacy. It also made her think of her parents and what would happen to them, but at this point, she tried not to think about it; they had always been model Galatec supporters, and maybe that afforded them a bit of protection, it would be dreadfully bad PR if anyone were to find out that they received harm from Galatec. Clementine took the wristband-like object gingerly, carefully strapping to her arm. She watched in awe as Jonah transformed. Following his lead, she decided to do the same.

"Strike Force, F-Flash Forward!" Clementine said with a slight stutter, thrusting her arm over her head. Much like with Jonah, the yellow stone in Clementine's wristband shone brightly, but instead of ebbing, the light expanded into a brilliant blinding flash that was over as quickly as it had started. The light now gone, Clementine found herself in a yellow version of Jonah's suit. Clementine shrank in on herself a little bit, not expecting her transformation to be so...dazzling and to make her the temporary center of attention. "S-sorry, I hope everyone's eyes are ok...m-maybe I didn't control it right or something..." she said, wondering if her transformation was supposed to a bit more tame, like Jonah's had been.

Yet her lack of confidence and self-reproach seemed to melt away slightly. Wearing this suit invigorated her, seemed to fill her with a sense of purpose. She looked at Samara and said, "I'll make sure to get your message to this Michael." Right now, Clementine would rather have the responsibility of being a courier rather than a combatant if she could help it. She went to Jonah's side, ready to follow him. Even though she had only known him for less than an hour, that fact that she knew him longest made Clementine feel a certain panicked attachment to Jonah, the closest thing she had to familiarity she could get in this chaotic situation. He also gave off a sense of reliability, having shown a readiness and willingness to take the first step, to lead; so Clementine was ready and willing to follow.

Tommy was somewhat taken aback by how fast things were going. This morning he went off to work expecting SOMETHING to happen, the managers and githkin, ignorant of his free will, had mentioned such things around him. However, he didn't expect to be at the center of a second rebellion.

His eyes grew larger as he saw Jonah morphing, and then Clementine. It looked so... FUN!!! Ok well, this was a serious moment and he knew he had to treat it as such, but still, it looked fun! No better motivator when entering a battle untrained and unprepared than fun!

"Don't get your panties in a knot there Jonah, I'm getting to it!" Said Tommy, smiling at the both of them. He strapped the morpher to his arm and reached forward. "Strike Force, Flash Forward!"

In much the same manner as the other two had morphed, Tommy was covered in a haze of pixels and blue light. This light however was much different from Galatec's horrible lights of despair, this light was more like a light of glory and righteousness. Within seconds he was enclosed in his own armor. It was a strange feeling... he didn't feel frail or weak like he usually did, constantly hungry and tired. He felt... strong. Stronger than any regular human should feel.

"Oliver, this is amazing!" He said, turning to his friend. "We have to save Micheal though, whoever that is, so we gotta get moving."